


The First and Last Line of Defense

by lizznotliz



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Campaign 05: A Crown of Candy, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24757243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizznotliz/pseuds/lizznotliz
Summary: Someone so dedicated to protecting the nation should have someone else watching their back, Theo thinks, and if he can’t protect the world then he can protect the Archmage and she'll take care of the rest.
Relationships: Theobald Gumbar & Lazuli Rocks
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	The First and Last Line of Defense

The first fight Theobald Gumbar was ever in, he won without ever throwing a punch.

He was tall and broad, even as a youth, so much bigger than all the other boys in his village, and one day he stepped into an uneven fight behind the tailor’s shop. The bully wore himself out punching Theo, and the younger boy at the center scrambled away while Theo took the hits and then hoisted the bully up by his shirt collar when his knuckles were sticky with blood.

He never forgets that feeling of power, using his body to shield someone smaller, knowing that you don't have to hurt someone to protect someone else.

The Archmage is looking for a ward.

Not a political ward, those young nobles whose families trade them for favor, expensive pawns who grow up in distant families and never quite fit in but are well compensated for their trouble. Theo’s family was never quite so well off. No, she’s looking for something more like a squire and a bodyguard combined; someone to keep things in order and run errands and help her mind her little corner of Candia’s affairs.

Some of the other soon-to-be knights scoff at the offer. Not at the Archmage - _never_ at the Archmage - but at the suggestion of spending another who-knows-how-long in such menial station. They’ve all been squires, they’ve earned their knighthoods; no matter how much they respect the Archmage, they long for bigger and brighter and bloodier things.

But Theo thinks about the power the Archmage wields, so different from his own but just as strong, and how she uses it to protect Candia’s people. He thinks he would like to work for a person like that; he thinks he could learn from a person like that. Someone so dedicated to protecting the nation should have someone else watching their back, Theo thinks, and if he can’t protect the world then he can protect the Archmage and she'll take care of the rest.

Theo’s a quick learner. He has to be, with Lazuli Rocks as his teacher.

Things are rarely stagnant around the Archmage, the present and future constantly shifting and changing and forcing the Archmage to change with them. There are visions to decipher and battles to be strategically fought and surrendered; there are nights when the Archmage calls him from his bed to her study just to watch her eyes go distant and stand guard while she tries to figure out which possible future leads to the least amount of Candian blood spilled. Theo learns how to sleep with his eyes open, how to get the Archmage to eat her dinner, how to keep the trivial matters of court out of sight.

And he learns magic.

The Archmage flat-out refuses to believe he doesn’t have the mind for it, and Theo would never refuse the Archmage, so he reads the texts she shoves into his hands and he practices the simple spells she assigns him at day’s end. It’s challenging in an unfamiliar way, a problem he can’t fight his way out of, and as tiring and difficult as the magic lessons are he finds satisfaction in the little things he learns how to do. He will never be proficient - no matter how much the Archmage believes in him, Theo was built to fight not cast - but he is proud of his accomplishments. More importantly, the Archmage is proud of him, too. 

When she teaches him Find Familiar, he asks what form his familiar should take. The Archmage simply raises one eyebrow, and she doesn’t speak but Theo can hear her first order clearly in his head.

_Think for yourself._

For as much time as they spend together, Theo can’t bring himself to think of the Archmage as a _friend_.

Their relationship is too formal, too professional for that, but he’s seen her at her worst - her most tired, her most defeated - and she’s wiped his blood off the floor of her office after the last attempt on her life, and so they share a relationship that Theo finds difficult to define.

They are not friends, but he watches her stroll across the courtyard hand in hand with Caramelinda of House Meringue and feels some sort of joy and relief in knowing that he’s not the only one looking out for her best interests. The Archmage’s siblings obviously love her, but they are all so mired in their own parts of the war that sometimes Theo feels like he’s the only thing standing between Archmage Lazuli and the armies of several nations, or her own bad sleeping habits. He is honored to stand there, would stand there til the end of time if she needed him to, but he wants things to be easier for her, and for Candia.

Caramelinda is smart and kind, and she looks at the Archmage with wonder and surprise; the Archmage rarely looks surprised by anything, but there’s something warm in her gaze that makes Theo wonder if she didn’t quite see this coming, didn’t see her political match becoming a genuine love.

Theo and the Archmage are not friends, but sometimes he wishes they were so he could feel comfortable telling her how happy he is for her.

One evening - one normal, unremarkable evening - the Archmage calls Theo to her quarters. It’s rare but not unheard of; while they normally met in her office, her visions kept her up late at night and there were times when he would jog through the halls, light armor thrown on over his nightclothes, to see to whatever she required.

Caramelinda is leaving just as he arrives, offering him a kind, indulgent smile as she gestures for him to go inside. He hates to think that his presence has interrupted her evening, but the Archmage awaits, and he slips inside to stand at attention.

There is a shield laid out on the Archmage’s personal desk. 

It glows subtly in the moonlight through the window, purple and white swirls gleaming, and it draws his attention instantly. Theo thinks he’s never seen such a fine piece of defensive armor in his entire life. He’s too loyal, too well-trained, to take another step into the room until he’s invited by the Archmage, but he feels drawn to the shield. _Magic,_ he thinks, then amends because he’s been around it long enough: _the Archmage’s magic._

The Archmage emerges from the shadows, and Theo is embarrassed by the way he jumps, just a little, his attention so focused on the shield. She stares at him for a long, long moment, and although that unrelenting direct eye contact has never gotten less unsettling, he has gotten used to it by now.

“It’s called Swirlwarden,” she says after a minute. “It’s for you.”

Theo had hoped, but the confirmation is almost overwhelming. He’s never been given a gift like this before, so personal and so powerful. He hefts it onto his forearm and it almost seems to hum at his touch.

“You’ll protect them with this.” It’s not a question, but Theo nods. Of course, he’ll protect anyone she wants him to. He knows he’s supposed to _think for himself,_ but he lives to serve, and he awaits her orders.

But she doesn’t explain, doesn’t offer any more orders. She just looks... she looks tired and focused, a combination she’s always excelled at, and Theo starts when she steps forward suddenly and grabs his right hand.

“This will help,” she says, “because I know you’ll use it.”

“Of course,” he nods. The Archmage stares at him for another long moment, then dismisses him back to his quarters, where he will spend the next hour examining and polishing his new shield.

The Lady Archmage Lazuli of House Rocks, First of her Name, is dead the next day.

The only person who holds Sir Theobald Gumbar responsible for the Archmage’s death is Theo himself.

Everyone else knows she sacrificed herself, knows she cast the spell to call down the arrows; anyone near her that day knows she dismissed Theo mere minutes before she finished casting the spell, ordering him far enough away that his new shield Swirlwarden would be useless in the attack. Neither General Rococoa nor the king, nor any of the other members of House Rocks, can find any fault with Theo’s service record, and he is thanked by the family of his fallen Archmage for his dedication.

But the Archmage is dead and Theo wasn’t there, and no matter how many times someone tells him that _Lazuli chose this_ and _she saved us_ , all Theo can think is that he was supposed to save her.

It takes them a few days to get around to reassigning him; he is, understandably, forgotten in the wake of the Archmage’s death and the ongoing war. Unsure of what else to do, he stands guard at the door to the Archmage’s study, and the only person he allows entry is Caramelinda. Theo’s never seen anyone quite so bereft, though he hasn’t looked in a mirror lately. Part of him knows that he is a knight of Candia, first and foremost, and that he should seek out the Lord Commander and request new orders, but there is another part of him - one that’s just a little bit louder - that knows in his heart he was the Archmage’s ward before anything else, and she would want him here, minding her love, until the nation needs him elsewhere. He struggles with those two ideas for a little while, but he’s learned to _think for himself_ , so he stays put until the Lord Commander calls for him.

(The last day he is officially the ward of the Archmage, Caramelinda shoves several heavy books into his arms, arcane texts that are banned outside of Candia’s borders. “She would want them safe,” Caramelinda says, and Theo staggers under the weight of that trust, the idea that he could keep the Archmage’s magic safe even if he couldn’t keep her safe. He hides the books under the floor of his room and wonders if he’ll ever find anyone he can share them with.)

They reassign him to Prince Amethar’s guard, which is hardly unsurprising. Theo doesn’t know the prince well, personally, but there were times when the Archmage would say something, or tell a story to get him to relax, and so Theo feels like he knows Amethar better than he should. He knows Amethar like a younger brother, rather than a royal, and so he takes comfort in the formality of rank, relying on royal protocols to keep from saying something he shouldn’t ought.

He goes above and beyond those first few weeks, desperate to prove himself worthy of the position he’s been assigned, and he feels like he did when he first showed up at the Archmage’s study, nervous and absolutely sure he was going to dishonor himself. The prince lets it go on for a little while before pulling Theo aside one night, the third Theo has tried to stay awake and take over watch for some of the younger knights. Prince Amethar tries to order Theo to go to bed, but Theo protests, bags under his eyes, that he’s fine, your royal highness, he’s perfectly capable of doing his job.

And Prince Amethar looks older for a moment, not the ruthless, brazen soldier or impulsive little brother that Theo is used to seeing; he looks like a man starting to realize the true extent of the power he wields and what that means for his life and the lives of others.

“I know you can do your job,” the prince says, slowly, like he’s minding his words for once. “I trust you, Sir Theobald. My sister trusted you, and that’s all I need to know.”

Theo burns with pride and shame and sleeps for almost an entire day.

They win the war.

The Rocks sisters are all dead.

And Prince Amethar is crowned king with Caramelinda at his side.

She’ll have her own queen’s guard, but Amethar lends Theo to Caramelinda that day, a silent acknowledgement of where he should have been. His armor is polished and Swirlwarden gleams on his forearm, and he tries not to listen to the deep, steadying breaths on the other side of the door. When she emerges into the hall dressed in white candy cotton lace, Theo takes a step forward, thinks for himself, and speaks freely: “He is a good man.”

Caramelinda stares so long Theo worries he’s grossly overstepped his bounds, but in the end she nods and whispers, “But he’s not her.”

Theo offers his arm and walks her to the great hall for the coronation.

Theo’s ascent to the position of Lord Commander is swift, in no small part to his actions during the Ravening War and the King’s trust in him. Lord Commander is a title Theo has dreamed of since he learned what being a knight meant as a young boy, and he wears it as proudly as he wears his armor. He is in the best position possible to protect what is left of the Rocks family, and it gives his life purpose.

The king thinks he’s a stick in the mud, and the two young princesses defy him at every turn, and even the queen chafes at some of his protective measures, but they are _alive_ which means Theo is doing his job well. The older he gets, the less he cares what others think of him and his sense of duty.

She gave him a shield. One specifically designed for him to protect these people. He’s not going to let that go to waste, to let her sacrifice be in vain. If that means Jet and Ruby think he’s not cool, then so be it. They’re _alive_. That’s all that matters.

He won’t fail another Rocks.

In his quarters, when he misses the Archmage the most, he casts Find Familiar and remembers the wry smile on her face and the way she rolled her eyes when she saw that Sprinkle was blue.


End file.
